By FC Pierce
It’s late. A brand new day, if you believe the glowing numbers on the bedside clock. My room cloaked in darkness feels more dead than alive. Am I dreaming or hallucinating? It’s hard to know the difference these days. Bedroom spaces shape-shift. First an intruder, hunch-backed and leering, then an old woman carrying a sack. Now a shadow figure rises from the bottom of my bed, its fingers tugging on my quilt, and I see her face—40 years gone—wrapped within the flickering shades of grey and black. Still, I know my mother and I’m afraid all over again.
oh wow! scarey.. well done!
Thanks Patricia, the story literally came to me in the middle of the night.
Nicely done!
Scott
Thank you Scott. This was my first attempt at 101 words. Great fun!
Lovely read… chapeau…
Valli,
Merci’. I’m afraid that’s all the French I know.
Enjoyed this read. Thanks for submitting and sharing.
Hey, Keith, glad you liked this story of Craig’s, too.
And thank you Shoshauna for your encouragement as well as your editing ‘chops’ ?
Oops…meant Chops!
Love a good ghost story!
Really wonderful. Thank you.
This is a good one! Delightful and spooky!
“Bedroom spaces shape shift.” So taut! So true!
Whoa, good! This one will stay with me a while…
Great description and nice creepy twist :-0